The Melody of the Caged Bird
by The Gothic.Princess 101
Summary: Permanent Hiatus. AU Not highschool fic. What doesn't kill us, makes us stronger. Raven finds herself sitting alone in the broken pieces of what used to be her life, and when all hope is lost, a hand reaches out to her. But sometimes you have to let people save themselves.
1. I Take You

Authoress's note: Hey, so, I'm back with another story, sorry I haven't finished Love and War yet, but I promise I'm working on it along with all the others, and yes, this is the plot bunny that I mentioned, but it's not a plot bunny anymore, it's a real story. So, there's not much to say, I've got the whole story planned out, and **you have to read it all to understand it**, and a clarification of the characters is at the end of the story. So, thank you for venturing to my story, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans or anything to do with it.

Summary: AU Not high school setting. What doesn't kill us, makes us stronger. Raven finds herself sitting alone in the shattered pieces of what used to be her life, and just when all hope is lost, a hand reaches out to her. But, then again, sometimes, you have to let people save themselves...

_**The Melody of the Caged Bird**_

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><p><em>It's like a storm, that cuts a path. <em>

_It breaks your will, it feels like that._

_~Rascal Flatts: I Won't Let Go_

_Chapter one: **I Take You**_

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><p>The sound of tennis shoes pounding against the hard wood floor echoed throughout the gym. Shouts and cries for victory rang through the ears of the players. The large, red, digital numbers descended on the scoreboard. Everyone's heart raced, anticipation rose, and time slowed to an eternity per second. Every breath, bead of sweat, and ounce of effort from those efficient athletes for the past hour, came down to these last few moments.<p>

_C'mon Chase, number 42: All strength no skill _He inwardly coached himself, never taking his eyes off of the ball as it went from wood to the calluses covered hands of the bulky number 42, seeming to take a millennium each time._ D up, Chase, d up! _He mentally demanded his own self as the ball's holder attempted to escape passed him. Swiftly and skillfully, he stole the ball from it's beholder, and sprinted down the court the opposite way, proficiently dribbling the ball as he did.

_Watch left! _He thought, and dodged a steal just in time as he approached the three point line.

_Logan, wide open, left wing_. He told himself, glancing up at the clock,_ Five seconds, fourth quarter, down by one shot_. He retained the ball at his chest and glanced over at his coach, whom he couldn't hear over the roar of the crowd, but he read the lips of the bellowing old man. He was distinctively yelling "pass". The player's head swung around, the cold perspiration slinging off the strands of his jet black hair, sweeping above his eyes.

_Logan, wide open, left wing._ He repeated, and looked behind him at the herd of boys approaching, and without thinking it through, he launched up from the floor a mere foot, and forced the ball from his hands with all his might.

Everyone's head followed in pursuit of the ball as it soared through the air towards the net. The herd of boys came rushing passed him at the three point line before coming to a halting stop, throwing a gust of wind in his face. The loud, distinct buzzer sounded and echoed through everyone's mind, bringing back the noises of the outside world to the focused players. The crowd fell silent as the ball connected to the rim. A loud gasp flew over the crowd as it rolled around before deciding to fall off of the side.

The rival team players assembled into a victory circle, piling on top of each other as their game goers cheered frantically.

_You blew it, Chase, you blew it_ he mentally faulted himself. He peered around at his teammates, just as he'd anticipated, they were all shooting him looks with the shameful blame of the loss venomously dripping in them. Wait, this wasn't all his fault. Had his teammates been playing with the level of effort he had the whole time, that last missed shot wouldn't have even mattered.

_No, Chase...they blew it_ he told himself, and plastered a replica of their expressions on his fair face. Passing it off to each of his teammates, they deserved it.

The trained ears of his players heard his whistle blaring through the loud chortle. The losing players hustled over to the coach, whom was growing red and mad as hell.

Jaded, each of them panting and sweat dripping down their bodies, the coach eyed his players as their audience exited.

He paced in front of them, and all was silent as he hung his head down, ashamed of his players. They'd made a fool of The Marshall Academy, of him, and of themselves. Ignorant of all his lessons and above all, a mockery of their reputation as the TMA Titans.

He came to a halting stop in the middle of the group. "First pre-game of the season," he spoke calmly but the sharpness of his voice echoed throughout the gym, "And this is all you little shits have to offer?" he clasped his hands together behind his back and stamped his foot.

"I have more, Sikes, can't say the same for my teammates," the cocky player spoke up.

"You didn't seem to be worried about your teammates out there, Chase," Coach Sikes countered, shooting him a poisonous look, "And it's Coach Sikes to you, Grayson."

"Now, Grayson," he began, pacing once more.

"You're captain, the all-star, the champion, the boss, right?" Sikes clarified.

"Yes sir, that's me," Chase boasted, gently tossing his head to the side, his thick, glossy jet black hair sweeping above his glistening stormy blue eyes.

"Wrong," Sikes replied, raising his tone ten notches, "You are the self-centered player with his head in his ass," he spat.

The coach glanced up and saw the awaited baffled and bewildered look on Chase's face, "Oh yes, and you'd better straighten up or somebody is going to come along and knock you off that pedestal of yours," he shot an accusing finger at him, "This is your wake up call, don't make me have to come back with bullhorn, son."

"Yes, sir," Chase agreed, hearing every word loud and clearly, but not _listening_ to a single bit of it.

"Now, line it up," Sikes demanded, "You lose as a team, you win as a team, and I'll be damned if you aren't penalized as a team. Hustle up, let's go!" his whistle sounded, and the team took off to the opposite end of the court.

* * *

><p>Bryce slung his Nike sports bag over his shoulder, as always, the first to finish showering and dressing, and began putting the combination into his gym locker.<p>

"Pretty good out there for a rookie, Logan," the owner of the locker next to him complimented.

Bryce glanced to his right, not allowing the boy a single moments pleasure of seeing the forest green eye that wasn't hidden behind the waterfall of his silky, stringy deep black hair.

He'd always liked Mac, one of the few people he did. He was the only member of the team that didn't handle him as if he were the flattest ball on the rack, or feel he should be "hazed" for being the newest player.

"Thanks," Bryce simply stated, his voice velvet, but very cold and distant, as usual.

"Can you believe coach?" the boy at the locker next to Mac queried, pulling his plain white tee over his head.

Being the silent one that always overheard everyone's conversation, Bryce rolled his eyes and scoffed before shutting his locker and throwing on his signature plain white New Era hat.

Chase glared in Bryce's direction, picking up the vocalization, "You got something to say, Hothead?" he inquired.

Bryce turned around and leaned against his locker. Clad in baggy jeans and a black tee splattered with piano keys, the dark, tacit teen was intimidating, but never to Chase.

"Quite frankly," Bryce replied, folding his arms over his chest, "I do...Had you have just put aside your disliking for me, instead of acting like a child, and passed me the ball, Sikes would not be doubting you."

"Like you could have done any better, newb," Chase reasoned, "You're just a second choice. Who are you to question the caption of this team?"

"Chase," Mac gave him look, "Dude."

"No, he should know," Chase silenced him, "You're only here, Logan, 'cause Casey's dad couldn't pay his tuition and he goes to public school now." He smirked, satisfied at what he held over his only enemy.

"What matters is that I'm here," Bryce simply stated.

Chase eyed him daringly before slowly approaching him.

The green eyed teen gazed at him. Not a sign of anger, or hurt, or...or anything in his eye that was visible. Just a dead eye of a shark. It didn't even seem as though he were looking _at_ Chase, but _through_ him.

Bryce stood from the locker and sat his bag down, meeting the bold captain a few inches away.

They stared at each other. Emotions radiating from each of them, tension filling the room. The hate, and rage they had, they'd always had, for each other was so immense.

"Why _are_ you here?" Chase plainly asked, "Look around," he instructed Bryce but he dared not break their eye contact. "We're ballplayers, Logan," Chase told him, "You don't fit in."

"Obviously, my main goal in life is to fit in, Chase," Bryce said, "Solitude is strength. The need for friends as a crutch is weakness."

Chase despised his witty comebacks and bright sayings, he always had, "These guys don't want you here," Chase taunted him with the slight curve of a smirk on his lips, "Do you really think they care about you? These are my players, Logan," he gestured broadly to his chest with his finger, "Okay, I control them."

Bryce delved deep into his stormy blue eyes, and there was only one thing that they desired. Control. That's all he desired.

"That doesn't matter to you, Chase. Because all you've ever wanted is to control the one person that you can't. Me," Bryce replied, his voice tone never rising. "And you aren't able to because I control you. Everything you do revolves around me. Think hard, you just ruined our first pre-game because of your contempt toward _me_."

His green eye bounced back and forth from each of Chase's blue ones, and every pair of eyes watched them with peculiarity.

"You let me control you. You're weak." Bryce continued, moving closer to him, "Everything I say, everything I do, every move I make, it vexes you, taunts you. I'm inside your mind, aren't I, and I drive you insane."

The room stood still, neither one of the centers of attention showing anything on their faces but one perspective of a thousand thoughts consuming their minds.

"Whatever," Chase narrowed his eyes before pulling away from Bryce's and turning around, "Like I'd actually let this queer control me."

"Well, it takes one to know one, Chase," Bryce simply stated.

Chase froze, and slowly turned, meeting the glossy green eye once more, "What did you just say?" he chuckled, knowing his ears had deceived him.

Bryce smugly shrugged his shoulders.

"You little," Chase seethed, and stormed into Bryce, pushing him, hard, forcing him against the lockers. He grabbed Bryce by his V-neck collar and pinned him against the lockers under his grip.

Bryce clenched his eyes shut, counting to ten, assaying to withstand his arousing emotions.

Chase basked in pride at making Logan cower in fear, and in his rush of being in control, he drew his fist back and malevolently thrust it forward, brutally connecting it to Bryce's jaw.

In counteraction, Bryce's head swung around and collided with the lockers, the sound echoing throughout the room. His piercing green eyes shot open, sending a chill down his captain's spine.

His anger became irrepressible, and he grabbed the boys wrist in a death grip, never pulling his head away from the lockers, and Chase's hold loosened greatly before he released the teens apparel completely. He stepped back, trying to pull away from the dark boy's hold, but it just seemed to get tighter and tighter, constricting his wrists.

Bryce lifted his head from the lockers and tossed it to the side, clearing his line of vision for his right eye. He took a step toward Chase, whom was practically withering under his grasp. Unlike his antithesis, Bryce didn't savor his pain, so he released the players wrists. But as quickly as he did, he gave Chase a blow in his rock hard abdomen.

Chase doubled over and Bryce grasped his collar and slung him against lockers, sending another malicious strike into his nose, causing blood to stream from his nostrils. Infuriated, Chase shoved Bryce and gave him a good uppercut in the chin, he too, drawing blood, but from Bryce's mouth.

At his release, Chase pounced on Bryce and they collapsed onto the floor.

They rolled around, switching the upper hand back and forth, they had indeed met their match. They each threw brutal punches with sinister intentions at each other, never resorting to "cat fight" moves, just hardcore blows with immense power behind them.

Their teammates tried over and over again to pull them apart, but the hatred behind the scuffle was too much for them to manage.

At the loud ruckus, the coach came storming into the room, blown away and infuriated by what he saw. Two teammates fighting. What was his team becoming?

He blew his whistle obstreperously and maniacally, and the boys were finally able to break Bryce and Chase apart, forcefully pulling them to the opposite sides of the room away from each other.

"Damn it! I said stop!" Coach Sikes bellowed, and everything ceased.

Still enraged, Chase glared over at Bryce, wanting to go back for more, but that's when he saw the blood that had trailed down Bryce's chin from the uppercut, and he also had blood dripping from his knuckles.

And Chase looked down at his own fists, his insides churning, and he saw the red liquid running down them. He pressed his hand to his upper lip, and saw the warm crimson liquid that had been transferred. His stomach flipped at the sight, and he could feel his insides climbing up his throat. Disgusted, he pushed passed the barricade of sinewy Varsity athletes, and began hurling his insides out on the locker room floor.

Exclamations of utter revolt came from the team, and the coach had had enough.

He blew the whistle once more and every head shot towards him, "Logan! Grayson! I've had it up to here with this nonsense! You two are benched next game! Clean yourselves up, and march your ignorant hind parts on down to Principal Gordon's office!"

"Sikes!" Bryce hissed, "You can't bench me!"

"I can do as I damn well please! And it's Coach Sikes to you, Hothead!" Sikes countered, "Now clean that blood off your face before I do it myself!"

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><p>Exhaustion was finally taking full control as her eyes restlessly scanned over the documents for a tenth time. Her eyelids began drooping, concealing her brilliant amethyst eyes from the world. The papers fell from her hands and she lay her head in the crook of her elbow, drifting away.<p>

She would've fallen entirely asleep if her Blackberry hadn't sounded through the capaciousness of her executive's corner office, reminding her of lunch.

Startled, her head shot up, _Focus, Raven, focus_ she mentally prompted herself and brushed a stray hair from her cheek. She sat up in her chair and reached for her coffee mug, and that's when she saw it. Purplish bruises around her wrist, in the perfect shape of a hand that had to of had a death grip around it.

She caressed it, feeling her nerves tensing at the unmonitored pressure she placed on it. She wondered how it got there, but then she realized she already knew. It came from the same place all of her bruises, scars, and pain came from. That same person that always lurked in her mind.

"Mrs. Roth, I have a message for you," her assistant announced upon entering the palatial office.

Alarmed, Raven jumped a little in her seat, and hurriedly pulled her blazer sleeve down over her wrist. She spun her chair around calmly and saw her temporary assistant. A young woman, around twenty, with piercing pink eyes and deathly pale skin. She was wearing a light gray piece skirt suit, her skirt the shortest in the building, as usual, and clutching a clipboard in her arms. (**1**)

"Jenny, please, it's Raven," she corrected.

"No, no, no," Jen replied, "When we're here, call me Jennifer, I really want to play the part as a genuine Roth Inc. employee."

Raven rolled her eyes, "You said you had a message for me."

"Oh right," Jen recalled, absentmindedly pulling her short pink hair from it's pigtails, "You received a call from The Marshall Academy, apparently, your son was in a fight after his pre-game today."

Raven's eyes widened and she sighed, "You're kidding."

Jen shrugged her shoulders, shifting her weight to her left side.

Raven grabbed her phone and threw her purse over her shoulder, "Lock my office, I'm gone for the day." She hastily made her way towards the wooden double doors, "And thanks again for filling in for Kori until she pops."

Jen laughed, "Anytime, Raven."

* * *

><p>He lazed in his office chair, his leg propped up on his desk, chucking the miniature basketball against the wall, and catching it on the rebound. He sighed, knowing he should be typing an e-mail for his lawyer, but not having the heart to. So instead, he wasted his time lolling about his office.<p>

The ball ricocheted from the wall, and out of his reach. He noisily exhaled, today he was just too indolent to do anything.

He sat up in his chair and attempted to start the e-mail on his laptop. He tapped his fingers on the keys, not knowing where to begin on an e-mail like this, it was too embarrassing to face.

He sighed, his stormy blue eyes wandering to his hands, and a feeling of misery passing over him when he saw his empty ring finger.

He rubbed the void finger of which his sentimental gold band used to be. His mind taking a meandering path as it always did. He had an infinite number of things to think about, and that's often what he did with all the time he had to himself.

A hand was placed on his shoulder and his head shot around, laying eyes on his young, attractive assistant. A platinum blonde, electric blue eyed college student whom had been there approximately a week. To him, she was just another prissy blonde prancing around the building in a short skirt. (**2**)

"Mr. Grayson," she gave him a small smile, "You seem stressed, would you like some coffee?"

"Yes," he replied, "Black's fine. But please, call me Rich. And what was your name again?"

"Tara Markov," she replied, removing her hand from his shoulder and tucking her hair behind her ear, "And it's been a really great experience working at _the_ Wayne Enterprises so far."

"That's good to hear," Richard turned around in his chair and pretended to be doing something important on his laptop, "What brings you to my office? As you know, I'm a very busy man, Ms. Markov."

She clutched her clipboard tighter and looked around at the emptiness in his fancy office, seeing the ball lying on the floor and how his files were untouched, "Yes, well, I can see that," she rolled her eyes at his turned head, "Actually, I'm here because the principal from The Marshall Academy called, and he wants you at that school ASAP. Evidently, your son was involved in a physical altercation."

Rich groaned, and closed the lid on his laptop, mumbling about "indefinite grounding".

"Don't worry, Rich, I'll lock up your office for you," Tara reassured him, and he sped from the room in a jog.

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><p>The two boys sat still in the chairs in front of the Principal's desk; Chase with his elbow propped up on the armrest and head resting in his palm, infuriated but containing himself. And Bryce with his legs crossed at the knee and hands laced together in his lap, very calm compared to how he'd previously been.<p>

The Principal took his seat in front of the players and gave them looks of disappointment. He'd had each of their individual files pulled and they were laying on his desk.

"I don't understand, boys," he admitted, "You two are teammates, you're supposed to build each other up, not tear each other down." He paused, "Bryce, you are a straight A student, and Chase, you make fairly good grades yourself. You two are not stupid, so why would you go and do something as senseless as fighting in the locker room?"

Chase shrugged and sighed; Bryce was silent.

"Alright, boys," the Principal pulled two discipline sheets, "One day's suspension and D-hall for the rest of the week; I'll be speaking with your parents. And whatever else Coach Sikes decides to throw in."

Just as the nightmare was over, it was reinvented.

"Bryce Anthony Logan!"

Chase looked over at Bryce, whom had shut his eyes from embarrassment. He then turned his head towards the door of the Principal's office.

He saw a pair of black peep toe high heels, and as his eyes trailed upward, he saw a fairly short, high waistline, black skirt hugging a slender figure, and further upward, she was wearing a tight blazer over a deep violet camisole. And finally, he saw the face of the pretty good looking woman who leaned in the doorframe with her hand resting on the doorknob. She had a heart-shaped face, with obscure violet eyes, and short tresses of violet hair.

Chase saw similarities from this lady to Bryce. Such as the way she entered the room: tacitly and stealthily, not even causing a head to look up. And her complexion, she was so pale, she nearly glowed, exactly like Bryce. And her eye color was piercing, pure, and glossy, very much like Bryce.

Chase turned his head back around after analyzing the lady and scoffed, "What a loser."

"Christopher Kyle Grayson!"

Bryce turned his head, and laid eyes on what was almost an exact replica of Chase. He saw beige slacks and a white collared shirt with a deep blue tie, on a very toned and averagely tanned man. This man had spiky hair, of which was the same color as Chase's, and intense stormy blue eyes, also very much like Chase. His features were more pointed and square, where as Chase's were more smooth and round.

The Principal gestured for the two adults to enter, and the man allowed the lady through first. She held her hand out and the Principal shook it, "Rachael Roth," she introduced herself, in a dull, mysterious voice, "I'm Bryce's mother."

She stepped aside behind her son in his chair, and the man also shook hands with the Principal, "Richard Grayson," he said, his voice smooth and perfectly toned, "I'm Christopher's father."

"Dad," Chase spoke, "My name, is Chase."

His father glared at him before taking a step back and standing behind his chair.

"Well, Mr. Grayson, Mrs. Roth," the Principal began, "These two boys were sent to me because of a physical altercation after their pre-game today. Because this is a private school, we have a "No Violence" policy at TMA, and that type of behavior is extremely unacceptable, but because it is their first offense, they've received only one day's suspension. But, there is a two hundred dollar fine for any student whom violates the policy."

Bryce could feel his mother's disappointed and angry eyes burning holes in his head. His mother had always had a low tolerance for bad behavior. Mostly because she knew how much he was capable of, and how intelligent he was, and for him to act out was completely unacceptable.

"What do you have to say for yourself, young man?" Rich asked his own son, also highly disappointed.

"Besides the fact that he started the entire thing," Bryce side commented. Raven snatched his white hat from his head and swatted him with it before tossing it into his lap. He sighed and placed it back on.

Chase glanced over at them and snickered, and his father pushed his face away, making him silent and forcing him to face the front.

"I apologize for my son's behavior, Mr. Grayson," Raven held out her hand to him and he shook it.

"Please, call me Richard, and I'm really sorry about Chase, Rachael," Rich apologized, "He normally wouldn't act this way."

Raven gave him a small smile, "Please, it's Raven. And, excuse me, but have we met before? It's just, your name sounds really familiar."

"As does yours," Rich agreed, "But I don't think one could forget an appearance like yours. It's quite a distinctive and memorable one, but either way, when you meet so many new people everyday..."

"The faces all start to look alike," Raven finished for him, and he nodded, "It's exactly the same in my perspective."

The door to the office opened once more, and Raven's head turned toward it as it did, and in walked a young lady. Raven saw a short, pleated black skirt, stopping well above the girl's knees, but long black socks just beneath it, and also, a very fitted black blazer over a white collared shirt with a midnight blue ascot through the collar. And she also bore a silver pendant around her neck of the sign for Gemini.

Raven took in her features; The girl's hair was the exact color as Chase's and Richard's, but the same stringy and thick, and soft texture as Chase's. It flowed, sleek straight, well passed her elbows, and her side bangs were thin and tousled. Her eyes were hidden, for she wasn't looking up to them, but at a few papers she was organizing in her delicate hands, but her eyebrows were as dark as her hair, and thick, but trimmed and smooth. And her face was slender and diamond shaped.

"Principal Gordon," she spoke in a smooth happy-medium voice, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but I..." she trailed off when she looked up, taking in the sight before her.

Raven then saw her eyes were stormy blue, and very intense, exactly like two other members in the room. But one word summed up the appearance of this young lady when she walked through the door, simply lovely. Her dominant features accentuated true beauty, and Raven could tell by the mere way she walked that she had lots of confidence.

"Dad?" she inquired, embracing Richard, "What are you doing here? Did you close the office early?"

She pulled back and saw Chase slouching over in the Principal's chair, "Chase, you told me you were leaving after your game, and that's why you needed the keys," she pointed out, handing the Principal the papers she'd come in to give him.

"Chase was in a fight and threw a dilemma in everyone's day," Richard answered all of her questions, and he motioned toward Raven and Bryce.

The girl turned and held out her hand to Raven with a friendly smile upon her face, "I'm so sorry, Ma'am," she apologized, "I'm Peyton Elizabeth, Chase's sister, his twin, and Richard's daughter, whichever is more fitting. But you can call me Peyt or whatever fits; the sky is the limit when you have two first names."

Raven gave her a sweet smile, "I'm Raven and this is my son Bryce," Peyton Elizabeth released her hand and held her hand out to Bryce, who reluctantly shook it, but barely gave her his attention.

"Pleased to meet your acquaintance, Bryce," she smiled brightly at him, even though she was aware that he was trying to ignore her, "It's a shame how you don't get to meet all of your schoolmates when you have so many. Either way, everyday is still an opportunity to meet new people, make new friends, and have good times."

Bryce knew exactly who _she_ was; he'd known her since preschool. She'd always been the same, sweet, sensitive, "backboneless", volleyball loving girl. And he secretly called her constant cheery expressions her "sunshine sprinkles". There was nothing more annoying to Bryce Logan than a positive, sugarcoated, sunshiny, private schoolgirl.

"It was very nice meeting you all," Bryce's mother's voice brought him from his thoughts, "Bryce, let's go."

He stood and left the room before his mother, whom was busy giving handshakes and feign smiles.

* * *

><p>Raven stared out over the evening city from the terrace. Everything was so peaceful from there at this particular time of day. The sun would set soon and the magnificent array of contrasting colors was something one wouldn't want to miss.<p>

She looked over at her son, who sat across from her at the small round patio table. He still wore that white New Era hat with the brim pointed upward; she always wondered how it never managed to fall off.

His pure black hair always seemed to have a certain gleam to it. She never approved of him dyeing it from it's natural brown color (that always reminded her of his father) but she had to admit; he did look a lot a better, it suited him more.

"Mom, when there is nothing staring back at you, it's best if you don't rattle the cage," Bryce spoke, turning his head and blowing his smoke away from her.

"Sarcasm doesn't fit you, Bryce," Raven replied, watching as the stress left his eyes.

Raven took a puff from her own cigarette; smothering her guilt in the blanket of fumes. Everyday was the same with her son and she. Smoking on the terrace together; completely normal. But normality doesn't overrule morality, Raven was aware of this. She knew that allowing her son to do such a thing at such a young age was wrong; but she also knew that he had as many reasons, if not more, to rely on cigarettes to take away his stress as she did.

"The Graysons seem like nice people," Raven saw Bryce fidget in his seat out of the corner of her eye.

"Yes, exactly how bottled water seemed like a stupid idea," Bryce put in.

Raven rolled her brilliant eyes. "You're not in trouble, Bryce, just explain."

He sighed and tossed his head to the side, clearing the line of vision for his glossy green eye, while he faced his mother. "You wouldn't understand."

"How would you know when you haven't even tried to help me understand?" Raven replied.

He mulled over his words before he spoke them, "Mom, Chase is a control addict. Control is a drug to him. And he hates me because I don't bow to him."

"You find hundred faults in him but not one in yourself," Raven put in.

"I'm not perfect either, Mom," Bryce replied, "When I get angry, I can't find an ounce of sense to cling to."

"Our greatest weaknesses always lie within us," she said more to herself than to her child, "But, in times like these, your best bet, Bryce, is to address your anger as something positive."

"I don't have control over my anger," Bryce admitted, wrapping his lips around the tip of his cigarette and inhaling the numbing fumes.

"Maybe you can learn something from him," Raven pointed out.

"Sounds about as simple as playing Russian Roulette," Bryce replied, no sign of sarcasm present in his monotone voice.

"But potential," Raven added.

"Potentially problematic," Bryce finished.

"Just leave it alone, Bryce, if all you're capable of is making more problems out of this old news," Raven said, dissappointed, "Just "let time heal everything".

"I'm not giving up if I never tried in the first place. Save myself the trouble," Bryce stated rather than offered and looked out over the underlying city.

"If Garfield were here, he'd say, "if you run into a wall, don't walk away. Figure out how to climb it, go through it, or work around it"." Raven told her son.

"Mom, this isn't Dad's problem, it's mine; and how I choose to deal with it is my decision," Bryce puffed on his cigarette again.

"You used to be so much like your father," Raven reminded him.

"I'm sorry, everyone has to grow up sometime," Bryce stated, his voice softer than usual.

Raven put out the remainder of her cigarette in the astray, "Just please don't forget to pick up your sister from therapy today."

She saw his turned head nod and she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek prior to leaving the terrace.

* * *

><p>The warmth of love filled the room, along with the scent of a freshly homemade dinner. Consoling, soothing, and very homelike the room was. A complete stranger would feel the warmest welcome upon entering it. And, of course, the occupants felt this often; it was their home and they made it to be this way, just as they are.<p>

Chase nudged Peyton Elizabeth's shoulder during family dinner, "Heard about your last match, Peyt; said it was pretty good."

She nudged him back with her elbow, "My spikes were horrendous and I couldn't block one to save my life."

"What about the rest of your team?" Chase queried, sweeping his hair from his eyes with a slight toss of his head.

"It's not _my_ team, Big Head," Peyton Elizabeth pushed her flowing waterfall of jet black hair from her neck and shoulders, and it flowed down her back.

He thumped her cheek, starting a thumping, poking, and nudging war between them.

Richard peered over the table at the twins; taking note to their usual teasing actions toward one other. Chase would always be the one to start the mischief and finish it; Peyt would be getting tired of the horseplay soon and allow Chase his required "victory satisfaction".

Rich had to admit it; even though they looked very much alike, they were the antithesis of one another. Peyton Elizabeth had an abundance of good human nature and a soft heart; poor thing couldn't hurt a soul even if she tried. While her brother, Chase, was a free spirit, he didn't live inside the same boundaries as his sister.

"Knock it off, you two," Rich told them, "No fighting."

Peyton Elizabeth pushed Chase's hand away and turned toward her dinner, "No fighting period—Big head."

Chase huffed and faced her, his thick eyebrows furrowed and vivid blue eyes squinted slightly; He simply picked up his hand and flicked her ear.

"Cut it out, Chase," Peyton Elizabeth sighed, irritated by her brother's antics. She didn't roll her eyes or raise her voice; but plainly resorted to ignoring his actions, her typical way of dealing with being teased.

"Peyt's right," Richard accusingly pointed the pronged end of his fork at Chase, "Give it a rest; the ice is thin enough for you."

"C'mon Dad, I'm bummed out about basketball. A little sibling bickery is just what I need," Chase explained, poking Peyton Elizabeth all over while she tried to brush him off.

"This didn't happen on her account; so why should she be tortured?" Rich inquired, logically; he gave Chase a stern look, which was enough to cause his son to cease.

"You're right," Chase acknowledged, "She's got the Crosstown Showdown to worry about, while I'm stuck watching from the bench against Bushwell."

Peyton Elizabeth looked over to see her strong willed brother a little saddened, as if reality had only just struck him. She knew that basketball was literally everything to Chase; it's what makes him, him. And, at times, he could be extremely obsessive. Maybe not even over basketball, but over being the captain, she wasn't positively sure.

"That's right," Rich agreed, "So clean your act up and get your priorities straight; I mean it, Christopher," he gave him a look that didn't need any further explaining.

Chase sighed, "How long am I grounded?"

"You're not," Rich replied, "Everyone's aware that the greatest punishment for _my_ children is being deprived of sports."

The twins both smirked simultaneously, of course, theirs had no where near the level of annoyance and irritation that their father's attained.

"How are you feeling about volleyball, Peyt?" Rich inquired, watching as she allowed the dog, Ace, to eat food from her plate out of her palm.

She shook her head and sighed, "Not too confident," she admitted, looking up at her father, "There's a lot of..." she trailed off.

"I'm your Dad, just tell me," Rich reassured her, "What's on your mind?"

She deeply exhaled, "Pressure. There's a lot of pressure," she acknowledged, "Hopes are such small things, but what a great burden they are to carry when they're placed on you."

"Coach Kendall? Or...?" Chase put in.

"Not just Coach, but everyone: teachers, friends, teammates, even the janitors have a win lose poll for the tournament," she replied, "It's a lot to live up to; but I can't please everyone."

Chase looked over at his disheartened and distressed sister. She always allowed the smallest things get under her skin, and she never gave herself enough credit for the things she did accomplish, which was a lot, but somehow, she never let it go to her head. Even though Chase would never in a million years admit it, he was glad to have a sibling like that, he was proud to say that Peyton Elizabeth Grayson was his twin sister.

"You'll never be able to please everyone, _Princess_, the best thing you can do is please yourself," Chase cockily advised, "Which will be hard to do with the amount of credit you give yourself, or lack of it."

"And you give yourself too much of it, big head," Rich put in, "If your sister wants to be a low self-esteemed, moody, and sensitive teenage girl, then you let her," he smirked and Peyton Elizabeth smiled, "Now, both of you, go get changed; a workout sounds like a good way to end the night, don't you think?"

The twins stood; Peyton Elizabeth was pretty tall, but she still looked up to her basketball star brother, who stood at about 6 foot, while she was around 5'7. They disappeared upstairs to switch into workout clothes, nudging, thumping, and poking each other on the way.

Rich smiled as he pushed up from the table onto his feet, and trailed his hand over the void chair next to his before he, too, vanished upstairs.

* * *

><p>The crisp, cool, soothing air inside the room surrounded the occupants. Comforting it was, after a long day in dry, humid October weather. And moonlight, moonlight shined through the slightly open shutters of the room. Casting its mystic shadow across the floor and upon the porcelain faces of two beautiful individuals.<p>

Raven brought her knees up to her chest, and hugged them while she traced her fingers over the embroidery stitching on the comforter. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her daughter, who lay next to her, watching her nimble fingers trailing across the covers. Raven knew that the little girl was probably counting how many stitches her fingers touched, maybe even every stitch in the blanket.

"Violet," Raven's fingers paused and her eyes trailed upward, planning on meeting a pair of obscure light green ones, but the girl never looked up from the stitching, "Violet Grace," Raven repeated a little louder, and the broad, aloof eyes connected with hers.

Raven's fingers continued and she could see that the girl was itching to observe them once more, so she ceased, and gently cupped the small girl's cheek in her hand. She caressed the child's face with her thumb; soft, pale skin on soft, pale skin.

"Is there anything you want to say to Mommy?" Raven asked, lifting her head from her knees, hoping to get a reply.

Violet slightly shook her head, and Raven's hand retreated, "Nothing at all?" she double checked, and Violet shook her head again.

Raven sighed quietly, and Violet's face remained still, but so distant, "Go ahead and get ready for bed, Violet, Mommy's going to take you to meet someone new in the morning. Maybe someone who can help you," Raven gave her small smile, but Violet wasted no time; she stood on her feet and walked over to the vanity.

Raven watched from the bed as her daughter placed her right hand on the edge of the vanity and her eyes trailed over each grooming utensil in which were all in a perfect line across the table. She lifted her left hand and untied the green ribbon from her hair, and lay it down between the yellow and blue ribbon.

She then lifted her right hand from the edge, and lightly tapped each item on the vanity as it came. First the comb, then her brush, followed by the red ribbon, orange ribbon, yellow ribbon, green ribbon, blue ribbon, indigo ribbon, and lastly, her violet ribbon; all of which she would tie into a bow at the front of her head behind her bangs and use as a headband.

Raven observed, and for the first time, she noticed that the ribbons were all the colors of the rainbow, and lay on the vanity in the order they appeared in a rainbow.

Violet went back over each item, and tapped them all, apart from the brush, and when she reached the end, the violet ribbon, her hand slowly went back to the brush, careful not to touch anything else, and picked it up.

She lifted the brush and ran it through her long, silky black hair on the side, then in the back, where it flowed down to just above the middle of her back, and then she stroked the brush through the hair on the other side, and lastly, her bangs, which stopped before they could sweep through her eyelashes.

Raven watched, and she repeated this action at least ten times, before she carefully placed the brush back into its correct spot. Then, Violet took off her robe, revealing a long sleeve, plain white nightgown that nearly covered her feet, and she went into the bathroom, and hung the robe on the back of the door.

Violet climbed back onto the bed, and Raven's fingers began to move again, and she observed her daughter watching them; not as if she was interested in them, but mesmerized by them.

Violet broke the eye contact to watch as two dogs came trotting in the open door and sat at the foot of the bed.

"Shadow, Sabre, Come," Raven motioned for them, and they hopped on the bed and licked Violet's face, tails wagging. They lay down as well, and Violet smiled as she stroked both of them, forgetting about the stitching.

The bigger dog, Shadow, was a snow white German Shepard with shocking blue eyes. The smaller, but still of great size, of the dogs, Sabre (SAY-BUR, SABER), was a black and white Border Collie with dark brown eyes, and lay in Violet's lap, licking her hands whenever she got the chance.

Bryce also appeared in the doorway, only noticed by Shadow, who wasn't alarmed, and stood there silently, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest, watching his mother and sister heeding with silent interest.

"Mom," Bryce acknowledged his presence, (**3**)"Jason wants you." He entered the room, "Come on, Kiddo," Violet climbed into his arms. He whistled for the dogs as his mother disappeared downstairs, and they followed him to his room, where he lay Violet in his bed, leaving Sabre there to keep her company, and locked the door behind him.

Bryce seated himself on the top stair of the staircase, hidden by the solid wood banister of the first few steps, and Shadow lay down next to him, his paws folded on top of one another and head resting upon them.

Bryce waited, he waited for the simple words to turn venomous, for their voices to become shouts, shouts to screams, and then, would come the violence.

"How was your day, honey?" Raven asked her husband, sitting across from him at the kitchen table. She copied his notions, lacing her fingers together and resting them on the table.

He looked up at her, his malicious green eyes with a cloud of insanity suffocating them, and saw the deceit in her eyes, "What time did you get home?" He watched her, carefully, trying to detect anything he would consider a tell. Any movement out of sorts, and she was lying.

"Early," she replied, sighing, "Bryce was in a fight today, and I had to speak with the principal."

He observed her; she stayed still. Her eyes still held secrecy, although, he knew. He smelled her deceit the second he walked through the door. What was she hiding?

"A fight?" he asked, and she nodded, "He win?"

Raven had the urge to roll her eyes (while Bryce did roll his eyes) when she heard this, but fought it back, "I don't know; I wasn't there."

He lifted his hand from the wooden tabletop and ran his fingers through his tousled light brown hair. She still wasn't saying it all. He could feel that she was holding it back, "What did you do at work today?" he asked.

"I ate breakfast with Jen, and I spent the rest of the day behind my desk, getting everything together for the board meeting in a few days," she replied, "And then, I went to the school to get my son."

He froze and glared at her, green eyes locked with amethyst ones, "Stop lying to me," he scoffed maniacally and sent shivers down her spine, "I know you're hiding something." He watched her wither; he knew he was close to uncovering her dirty secret.

"What happened at that school?" he growled, lowering his head and sending her devilish glares, "And don't think about it and try to make up a lie," he spat.

She closed her lids and tears leaked from under them; tears of one thousand fears, and helplessness beyond despair, "I..I" she stammered and aroused his anger, "Nothing, Jason, I think. Just, please," she begged.

"Tell me!" Jason shouted, poison dripping from his voice, "And don't _think_ unless I tell you to!" he spat and slammed his fists down on the table, and she jumped slightly.

Jason waited a few seconds, and she didn't reply, so he stood on his feet and took one big step and he was behind her. He grabbed a handful of her hair in his fist and forced her head down to where it nearly touched the table, "Tell me what happened, filthy whore! Why do you lie to me?!" he yelled directly into her ear.

"I talked to the principal," Raven strained, feeling his grip grow tighter, "And..And.." she stuttered.

"And what!?" Jason hollered.

"I met a man!" she shouted back, and Jason forcibly pulled her head back, well over the back of the chair, slightly lifting her out of her seat and her feet from the floor.

"Who!?" he demanded, "You brainless, shameless slut!"

"The dad...the dad!" she strained, "The kid who Bryce fought with! I met his father!" The tears began to fall harder, flooding the river.

"Who is he?!" Jason demanded once more.

"Uh.." Raven searched her mind for his name, which was hard to do with the pain, "Richard...Richard Grayson."

Jason let go of her hair and grabbed her by the neck, "You know what I think about you talking to men without me there," he spat and his fingers constricted the fragile, tiny thing, and he knew that an ounce more of pressure, and he could easily snap it in two.

His anger rose in his body as he watched her wriggling form beneath him. She clawed into his fists, and drew blood, and the anger flustered inside him. He easily lifted her from the chair with his grasp around her neck, and slammed her into the wall. He loved the way she sounded when she choked as she tried to gasp a breath.

He pulled her toward him and their eyes connected, hers pleading for mercy while his sought revenge. He slammed her harder into the wall, and she couldn't even gasp for breath. He grinned viciously and whispered, "I love you. Why do you _pretend_ you love me?" into her ear, and her eyes widened; she could feel herself slipping out of consciousness. "Am I not merciful?"

Bryce heard the quiet, and he and Shadow ran downstairs, seeing Jason with his mother trapped against the wall.

Shadow sprinted and bit into Jason's ankle. He stumbled a bit and cursed the dog but still didn't release Raven.

Bryce calmly, compared to a normal person, jogged over and stood between his mother and Jason.

"Jason, stop!" he demanded, his voice slightly louder than normal, and tried to pry Jason's hand from around his mother's neck, loosening his grip momentarily, allowing Raven a small breath of air and a few more moments of consciousness.

"Get out of the way, kid!" Jason demanded, pushing him away and trying to kick off the dog at the same time.

"Let go of my Mom!" Bryce growled and pushed Jason with all his might, and he toppled over the kitchen table.

Raven fell to the ground, gasping for air with her hands pressed against her already bruising neck, and Shadow stood in front of her, barking and growling at Jason.

"You son of bitch," Jason growled, pulling up on the table, blood oozing from his lip.

"Can't you see you've done enough?" Bryce hissed, placing a hand on Raven's shoulder and allowing her to hold his, "Just go in your goddamn room."

Jason got onto his feet, panting, and grabbed the centerpiece flowers from the table and shattered the vase against wall with a heave, before leaving the room.

"Mom, are you hurt?" Bryce asked, lowering himself to his knees.

She coughed, "I'm fine," she breathed.

Bryce wrapped her arm around his shoulder, and helped her onto her feet, and took her to the couch. She put her feet up, still catching her breath, and Bryce brought her a couple of aspirin and a glass of water.

"Sleep well, Mom," Bryce wished her, and she gestured for him.

"I love you, son," she placed a kiss on his forehead, "Goodnight," Bryce gave her a meaningful look before disappearing upstairs.

…

She sat up in the darkness of the night, and reached over, turning the lamp on and casting its luminous shadow over the room.

She looked around and checked to see if anyone was watching, and got off of the couch. She silently strode over to, what she had once called, her family portrait, that hung against the wall; she reached behind it and pulled out a small leather book, a diary.

She went back over to the couch and opened it to a clean page. One of which didn't attain her selfish words of which pleaded for mercy; cries of help that would never be answered. Her words of hopeless tears.

_Dear Diary,_ she wrote,

_Where does love go when not even perfect could ignite the smallest flame of hope, in the smoky ashes of the greenest, most lush forest of what used to be? Jason and I have fallen, fallen into the deepest, inescapable pit of despair. My marriage, well, there isn't much I can do to better it, but wonder what I ever did to make him so mad._

_I live in fear. Fear of my husband, and what he will do to my children, to my family, to my dogs, to me, his wife. He says he loves me, and would never hurt me, but time and time again, his promises are broken. _

_As I write this, tears stain my cheeks, tears of helplessness, I'm trapped. But do I really want to escape? Jason has taken everything from me, I can't live in this big, cruel world without him. He is my everything. My love, my hate, my joy, my pain, the reason blood stains these white walls. They're no longer there, but I see them, I always will, they remain in my heart. Every room in this house holds a god-awful memory for me, even my children's rooms._

_I hold in my screams, my cries of agony as his fists come down on my body, so often, afraid that someone will come to my rescue. It will be my fault if they take my children, because I am weak. Bryce and Violet are innocent. Why do I punish them with this life everyday?_

_Raven Roth_

Raven closed the book and wiped the tears from her eyes. Her tears, of hopelessness.

* * *

><p>End Chapter<p>

(**1**) Jenny: Jinx

(**2**) Tara Markov: Terra

(**3**) Jason Todd: Red X

Okay, there it is, thank you for reading, I really appreciate it. And please review and tell me what you think. And I promise that everything will all make sense in the end so just be patient. And yes, this is a Rae/Rob fic. And no, Bryce, Peyton Elizabeth, and Chase are OCs, I just made them up, they're not based on any characters.

Thank you for reading, please review.

~_GothicPrincess_


	2. To Be Mine

Authoress's Note: OKAY, so before you try and hang me by my toenails, let me explain. I really haven't had any muse for this story for a while, so sorry it took so long. And I've been working really hard on Jump City High and Challenge Day too, rewrites. BUT, I promise the next update will be a lot sooner.

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans or anything to do with it.

Summary: AU Not high school setting. What doesn't kill us, makes us stronger. Raven finds herself sitting alone in the shattered pieces of what used to be her life, and just when all hope is lost, a hand reaches out to her. But, then again, sometimes, you have to let people save themselves...

_**The Melody Of The Caged Bird**_

* * *

><p><em>You think you're lost,<br>__But you're not lost on your own  
><em>_You're not alone_

_~Rascal Flatts: I Won't Let Go_

_Chapter 2: **To Be Mine**_

* * *

><p>Adrenaline pumped through the veins of the player as he pushed himself forward; using his skills and coordination to keep the enemies away from the ball as it went from the wooden floor of the gym to his fingertips. Time was slipping away, and fast, as was the win for their team.<p>

He traveled up the court, expertly dribbling the ball, and maneuvering around his adversaries. He didn't bother to glance up at the clock, that would only waste the already quickly draining time. Jaded, and sweat trailing down every inch of his body, he approached the half court line and a barrage of three massive and hefty players surrounded him, giving him no where to run.

He stopped, but continued dribbling the ball; he saw the situation before him, and couldn't think, he had no time. He grabbed the ball and protectively held it at his chest, and through a small crack between the shoulders of the giants, he saw Chase wide open at the left block.

He twitched, about to pass his teammate the ball, but instead, he bounced it between the legs of one of the monsters. All three of them turned and their eyes followed in pursuit of the ball as it rolled, and he flew by and captured it before any of them could lunge for it.

Bryce finished dribbling down the court and saw Chase standing there, waiting for the pass, but he ignored his proposal and instead, went in under the goal for a layup.

He jumped up in his tracks a good two feet and tossed the ball into the air. When he landed, his feet slammed against the hard wood floor, and after the rumble of approaching footsteps behind him ceased, he heard the distinctive sound of the ball swishing through the net.

The crowd cheered wildly and over the tumult, the coach bellowed, "Tied game boys! Use your teammates!"

Bryce sprung back into the game, and sprinted down to the other end of the court where the ball was being taken out on the sideline by Mac.

He broke passed all of the opposing players and stood but six feet from Mac. Mac heaved the ball into the air toward him, and just as it was nearly connected with Bryce's palms, a flash of a blue and gold uniform whisked by, taking the ball into it's custody.

Chase raced down the court with the ball in which was stolen from his own teammate, with Bryce right on his tail. He dismissed Bryce's presence and continued down the court where his team's goal was. Bryce pulled ahead and stopped at the block, alone, while Chase was being flagged down by the opposing team as he neared the goal.

The excellent athlete acted upon his instincts and launched from the wooden floor at an adept length, and forcibly pushed the ball through the net, clinging to the rim with one arm, giving the herd of players time to race by beneath his feet, while he was safe from being trampled above.

But in the tempest below, he saw the distinctive figure of Bryce smashed into by one of the many bulky members of the opposite team, sending him to the floor on his back, and sliding a few feet across the wooden court.

The buzzer rang through the gym and the crowd of players beneath Chase cleared out, all but one.

Chase smirked at this individual who lay there glaring at him with a piercing green eye. He chuckled then, sending a malicious glower toward Bryce as well while the audience cheered maniacally for him because he still hung there by the rim.

Bryce watched as he released the rim and landed perfectly on his feet and dived into the victory circle of their teammates. Knowing his anger was on the verge of becoming a flustering, uncontrollable beast within him, Bryce climbed onto his feet and disappeared to the locker room, purposely avoiding the group of Titans crying shouts of triumph as they did after every victory.

"Who are we!" Chase bellowed as the captain, each of them linked together with their arms locked around each other's shoulders.

"TMA!" the team roared back.

"What team!" Chase thundered.

"TITANS!" they chanted, obstreperously.

"Who are we!" Chase roared as they sprang up and down, the distinctive feeling of a well earned win enveloping them.

"MARSHALL!" the team exclaimed ten times louder, the exhorting crowd couldn't compare to their deep bellowing voices.

"Titans!" Chase hollered, tensing his muscles as he stuck out his fist in the middle of them.

"BLUE AND GOLD!" the team put their hands in and threw them into the air, before they began piling on top of one another, screaming of a garnered victory.

**…**

Bryce listened as the team came jumping and running in from where he stood at his locker; they still shouted rallying cries of victory, and Chase's voice soared above all others.

Bryce felt his emotions begin to flare once more, and he thought about his mother, _address your anger as something positive_, she'd said. But what did it mean, he wondered, and could he do it.

He shut his forest green eyes, folded his arms over his chest, and leaned his shoulder against the lockers. As if he'd been doing it for years, with ease, he tuned out the boisterous tumult that surrounded him. And he allowed his mother's words to flow freely in his mind as he tried to analyze them.

The door to the locker room slammed shut with a loud echo, and the entire commotion ceased to be. Bryce's eyes slowly opened and he leaned his back against the lockers and he watched and waited; he was expecting this to happen.

Sikes slowly emerged from around the corner. Wearing a brown suit with his hands clasped together behind his back and head facing the floor. He paced slowly and every eye watched as he did.

"What the hell are you boys doin'?" he asked, his voice at a medium tone, loud enough so that everyone could hear.

Chase pulled his white tee over his head and rolled his eyes, "Come on, Sikes," he enunciated as he picked up his white jacket, "We just destroyed _the_ Cobras," he paused, trying to get his point across. "Which is like, a whole team of me's on steroids," he gestured with his jacket over the team and then back at himself and his teammates chuckled and snickered softly.

The coach stopped pacing and paused for a moment before he sharply turned and faced the boys, "I didn't see a win out there; Brenner Oaks lost," he stated, raising his voice, "You boys are some of the most conceited, swollen-headed ball hogs I've ever known. And if what y'all did out there could even be called playing, it's the most selfish I've ever seen."

He unclasped his hands and glared behind furrowed brows at the boys he gestured his finger over, "And I want ever single one of y'all, Sunday morning, 5_am_ sharp, at the field behind the last post," he tore his finger away and without further scold, strode over to the door, "Oh, and, bring your running shoes, boys," he voiced over his shoulder.

**…**

Bryce slung his sports bag over his shoulder while he sauntered into the workout room, headed to the parking lot.

Hearing the sound from one the machines operating, he glanced over and laid eyes on the one person he least wanted to see at that moment.

He'd managed to keep his anger to a minimum at the sight of his mortal enemy just by the simple thought of not wanting to embarrass his mother. But then again, his anger just rose and festered the longer he stood there, it was more overpowering than he thought.

"This is a change right, Logan? Usually I'm just dunking all over you on the court," Chase snickered, trying to taunt his teammate once again, but the dark teen glared at him with his piercing green eye, before continuing toward the door.

"Hey, Ass Wipe," Chase stood from the machine and approached Bryce's frozen figure from behind, "I'm talking to you."

Bryce slowly turned and Chase met his signature stone face, "Back off, Grayson, I'm not in the mood."

"I didn't ask, Logan, I'm old fashioned; date first, and then smash," Chase smirked.

Bryce remained unfazed on the outside, but on the inside, his anger was roiling as it ascended into the danger zone. "You and I are both aware that you are and will always remain a virgin. Not a girl in this entire forsaken universe let alone on this planet will ever let you in because you are a dick."

Chase's smirk remained, he was gaining amusement from this parley while Bryce was being greatly agitated. "Your smokin' hot mom did. When I saw her in the office the other day, I thought "MILF"; Mother I'd Like to F—well, you get it."

With that simple comment, Bryce lost every drop of self-control, his anger had reached it's brink and hell was breaking lose inside of him. Without a second thought, he reached out and shoved Chase with every ounce of strength he had within himself, and hissed, "You sick son of a bitch," with venom dripping from the words.

Chase stumbled backward and fell over the bench press onto the ground. He lay there for a moment, in shock and trying to realize what had just happened. But after only a few seconds, he realized everything and was now almost as furious as Bryce, who was standing there with a scowl, waiting to finish the fight that Chase had started.

With cruel intentions, Chase sprung up from the floor and lunged at Bryce and they both toppled onto the floor, with Chase landing on top. He pounded his fists down over and over again, with all his mite behind them, sending several blows to Bryce's face.

With the first opportunity, Bryce sent his slender, vicious fist upward, delivering a malevolent uppercut to Chase's nose, and he was knocked onto his back. He clutched his nose and tried to make sure it wasn't broken, and with the chance, Bryce got back onto his feet.

The dark teen grabbed Chase by his shirt collar and lifted him completely off the ground, connected eyes with him, before letting go. Chase fell to the floor at his feet, and Bryce found himself drowning in anger, and allowed Chase to get onto his feet again, before sending him a kick to the one place that hurt the most.

Chase felt his insides churning and had the strong urge to vomit, he doubled over and toppled onto the ground. Bryce seized the opportunity and took advantage, and had the upper hand, throwing punch after punch. But Chase soon bounced back, and he and Bryce found themselves in a very familiar position, rolling around on the floor, switching the upper hand back and forth.

At the loud tumult, their fellow teammate came running into the workout room. Mac took in the sight and yelled, "Fight!" into the hallway. He ran over to the boys and followed by other members of the team, and they commenced to break Chase and Bryce apart.

After a few minutes of struggling to gain to control of the situation, the team was finally able to break the two teens apart. But upon being ripped away from Bryce, Chase threw one last swing and it maliciously connected with Bryce's Adam's apple.

Turning a sickening pale color, Bryce was released from the boys holding him, and he took a seat on a bench press. For a few moments, he found it difficult to breathe, but soon, he caught his breath. And all the pain was replaced by anger. He glared in Chase's direction with an ice cold eye.

Chase tried to break free, but the team restrained him. Aggravated and pushed to his limit, Mac shouted, "Dude, Chase! Chill out before Coach—"

The familiar whistle of their coach blared through the room, and all fell silent. Chase and Bryce knew they were about to be shot, skinned, cooked, and chewed out by Sikes, but right now, they were too heated and worked up to care.

"Dammit!" Sikes' voice boomed through the quietness, "This is it! I've had it up to here with this nonsense!"

He marched into the middle of the room and pointed to Bryce on the bench press and trailed his finger over to Chase on the wall, "You two are gonna learn to respect each other, act like teammates for once in your dumb life."

"Let's not be irrational, Coach," Bryce advised, without a hint of sarcasm in his cold, distant voice.

"This is as realistic as it gets, Logan," Sikes fumed, "I'm tired of you two and this whole cat fight crock of crap. Every man on this team has a role, has value. And you morons have yet to see that. So, Grayson, you're gonna learn about Logan, and Logan you're gonna do the same. You're gonna learn all about each other.

"And then, you're gonna tell the entire team what you found out. Till then, don't even bother to show up to practice. You boneheads are off my team," Sikes waved them off as if he'd given up on them.

"Dude, you've gotta be kidding me!" Chase exclaimed, tucking his arms across his chest, "At least think this through."

"Unfortunately, I don't kid that much, Grayson," Coach Sikes countered, his temper flaring, "And this is only the beginning, so buckle up and enjoy the ride. And both of you march your ignorant hind parts on down to Gordon's office."

With that, Sikes disappeared from the workout room, steaming, and the rest of the team followed.

Bryce grabbed up his bag and sauntered toward the door to take his mortifying walk to the principal's office for the second time in a week. He'd calmed his nerves to a certain degree, but he knew that Chase was still royally pissed because he delivered a very loud and powerful blow into the wall that actually make the lights flicker on and off in the room.

Bryce rolled his eyes and continued on his way passed Chase and into the hallway, "Well, isn't everyone just a ray of fucking sunshine," he muttered under his breath.

"Dammit, Logan!" Chase fumed, picking up what Bryce mumbled, "Don't you get it? This is all your stupid fault. If you hadn't overreacted and picked a fight just because I joked around about boning your precious little Mommy, we'd still be on the team."

Bryce whipped around and tried to connect his fist with Chase's jaw, but Chase quickly reacted and easily caught Bryce's fist in his hand. He forced Bryce's arm into his abdomen and pushed him until his back hit the wall and then pressed his forearm to Bryce's throat, pinning him there.

Bryce could have easily broken from Chase's hold, but the look in Chase's stormy eyes, prevented him from doing so. Chase didn't have to say a word to get his point across to Bryce, the emotion in his eyes said it all. Behind his tough guy persona, he was hurting. The one thing he cared about the most had been taken away from him, and now he was lost.

Before Chase pulled back, that familiar hard look returned to his eyes, and Bryce stared at him with his stone expression as Chase continued down the hall to the principal's office.

**...**

For a second time, Bryce slung his bag over his shoulder upon entering the workout room, determined to just get to his truck this time.

Sauntering across the padded floor, he heard the sound of the treadmill operating, followed by the beeping of the buttons being pressed, and then silence. He looked around, his curiosity got the best of him, and a girl emerged from between the bench press and dumbbell rack.

It was the other Grayson, Peyton Elizabeth; he recognized her, even though she was very informally appareled compared to before. She now wore a blue and gold TMA sweatshirt, along with stretchy and loose sweatpants that stopped short, just beneath her knees, and tennis shoes. Her tan skin glistened in a coat of sweat, and her lengthy hair of jet black was pulled into a thick, long, and stringy ponytail. Her bangs were moist and tousled, and her cheeks had grown red from her body temperature and exercise.

"How are you, Bryce?" she asked, pulling the ear buds from her ears and storing them away in her pockets, "I'd shake your hand, but I'm kind of.." she trailed off, gesturing over her sheeny self.

"Sweaty and gross," Bryce finished, stoically and standoffish.

Peyton Elizabeth chuckled awkwardly, not really expecting him to laugh with her, and cleared her throat, "Well, I guess we'll be seeing a lot more of one another now. Chase told me what happened."

Bryce watched the uneasiness that his atmosphere brought her. Staying would do nothing but add to her discomfort.

"Well, I have somewhere to be so..." he spoke but trailed off as he turned to leave.

"Oh, wait," she reached for him but stopped when she saw he'd quickly faced her again, "I needed to ask you something."

"I'm listening," he replied.

"Well, I have this volleyball tournament coming up soon," she explained.

"The Crosstown Showdown," Bryce put in.

"Right," she replied, "And Chase is going to be there, so I thought that maybe you could join him. It's an open opportunity to gain civility towards one another; so why not jump at it?"

"I'm the most opportunistic person you'll ever meet," Bryce claimed, sarcastically in his own way.

She couldn't really tell if he was being facetious or actual. His expression was definitely dead serious, but then again, she wasn't familiarized with him, so she couldn't be sure.

"Feel free to show," she smiled at him while his face remained solid.

"I'll take your proposal into consideration," he reached up and lightly shifted his hat.

She switched her weight to her left side, "Please do; quite frankly, I don't want to see Chase when he's deprived of basketball. He'll turn into an entirely different person. I hardly know who my brother is as of now anyway." She folded her arms over her chest and stared at the floor, discouraged by how far her relationship with her brother had fallen, along with so many other things in her life. What now one could only call the loose and forgotten term of what used to be.

He observed as she seemed to be speaking to herself more than to him, "You can't see hope when your head is hanging down; your eyes are blinded by despair. Hope comes from above so that it can hoist you up from the abyss."

Her eyes trailed upward, wanting to meet a green one, but he was gone just as quickly as he had appeared. She slowly swung one of her legs in front of the other and pushed off of the machine she'd been leaning against. She sucked in her bottom and nodded; he was right.

* * *

><p>The aura of pensive thought filled the office and each of the women within it were pondering over the same subject.<p>

"No, Raven, this is too risky, even for you," the fair woman explained.

"To everyone's surprise, I'm actually agreeing with the blonde," the young British woman admitted, "Your reputation will be trashed and it's my job to make sure that doesn't happen, Raven."

Raven's eyes shifted back and forth between each of their faces. There was the fair, strong-willed woman, who's blonde hair stopped at her shoulders, along with bright blue eyes that were glazed over with confidence. (**1**) And there was the dark woman who bloomed with straightforward authority and guile. Her appearance was different from the fair woman; her hair was cut short and thin and the back was jet black while her bangs were tresses of fiery red. (**2**)

"Katherine," Raven said to the fair woman, "Where are you coming from with that decision?"

The young pink haired woman pushed off of the wall and spoke up, "On the grounds that someone was murdered at Wilson and Co. and Wally says our prime suspect is Wayne Enterprises."

"Who is Wally?" the dark British woman asked.

"My husband, Detective West," Jenny held up her hand and twiddled her fingers, flashing the diamond on her third finger, "We've been through this before, Toni."

"Have we really?" Toni inquired, not having the slightest clue.

"Yes," Katherine clarified, "Detective West, he's partners with Detective Harper."

Toni looked at them with lost, questioning blue eyes.

Katherine sighed, "Roy Harper, Kori's husband."

"Kori?" Toni searched her mind, "Never heard of her."

"Kori, as in, my assistant who's on maternity league. She's been here long before I even hired you," Raven clarified, she took her seat in the leather chair behind her desk.

"We can continue this episode of "Who the Hell Are These People" later," Jenny lay her clipboard down and sat on the corner of the end table, "Wally told me that the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, as far as they know, was with the woman the day she was murdered."

"If that woman worked at Wilson and Co., its obvious she saw a lot of people," Raven replied, "Being present on the day of someone's murder, does not make you the murderer."

"He's a wealthy man with dirt on his shoes," Toni explained, "Society will torpedo his reputation, company, and even his net worth. He's a walking bull's eye for bad publicity for the slightest accusation."

"Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?" Raven asked, "I don't know this man, neither do any of you. It is not our place to judge and accuse. We're no greater than the scum that did take her life."

"But accepting this deal could tarnish Roth Inc.," Katherine explained, "People could lose their jobs, their homes. You're not a selfish woman Raven; I know you don't want that on your conscience."

"But you don't understand," Raven replied, "My father waited years to be given a fundraiser from Wayne Enterprises; and now there's one being handed to me on a silver platter and you expect me to turn it away?"

"I expect you to do what's best for this company," Katherine clarified, sympathetically, "We could fall under if this fundraiser is a dud and you know it."

Raven laced her fingers together and sat them on her desk. It would be her fault if the fundraiser was a fail because ultimately it was her decision. The burden would be too much to carry. Her reputation would be defiled, she would have no choice but to fire Toni. There would be no reason for she and the rest of the executives, the company would be under. She would lose her house, her children, and only God knows what Jason would do...

Katherine placed her hand atop Raven's and made eye contact with her, "Your father retired and left the company in good hands, Raven. He knew you had the heart and mind to run this company. I'm still here, he made sure of that. I'm _your_ COO now, Raven; I'm here to help you. But you _have_ to trust me."

Raven sighed and Katherine pulled her hands away. She knew that the entire deal was risky, but aren't all deals risky anyway? Or was this one just too much of a risk?

"Okay, I'll be sure to tell her. Thank you, Principal Gordon, have a nice day," everyone looked up as Jenny hung up her Bluetooth.

"Bryce?" Raven asked, hoping for a no, but Jenny nodded. She sighed and covered her face in her palms, the stress becoming overwhelming.

"He was in another fight," Jenny explained, "The Principal said he knows how busy you are so a conference isn't necessary."

"How deep is Bryce in this time?" Raven mumbled.

"The Principal said he and the Coach came to an agreement that the boys are off the team until they give reports on one another," Jenny replied.

Raven deeply exhaled, "It feels like the entire world is on my shoulders, girls," she ran a hand through her violet locks.

"And I think I have a solution," Toni spoke up, "Endorsements; your face, plastered on the front of every lavender scented bath product! Instant millions; done."

Raven let her hands fall to her desk, and she, Katherine, and Jenny all passed off the same questioning and annoyed look to the dark young woman who was seeing money signs.

"Raven has the weight of the world on her shoulders, and all you can come up with is lavender bath products?" Jenny rolled her eyes at the shallowness.

"Alright, alright," Toni sighed, "Maybe a little sympathy would be useful right now."

"Duh," Jenny breathed under her breath.

Katherine snickered and she saw Raven sneak a small smile upon her lips but she also noticed something else.

"Raven?" she furrowed her eyebrows and reached for Raven's wrist, "What happened here?"

"Oh," Raven observed the bruises on her wrist, "That was my fault. Uh, I got myself tangled into some wires while I was moving some things around in my office."

"You had to have gotten yourself really buried deep into the wires to leave these marks," Katherine reasoned, observing the bruises even closer.

"Yes, well," Raven quickly snatched her arm away and pulled her sweater down over her contusions, "There were a lot of them and my resisting only made them tighter."

"They were wires, not snakes, Raven," Katherine pointed out, and Raven had no excuse for that.

"Okay, well, let's stop interrogating Raven," the British woman suggested, "She signs all of our paychecks. Wires or snakes, fundraiser or no fundraiser, with a few white lies and a little deceit from the best publicist in the world, this will all play out in end, Raven, I promise." She smiled and placed her hand on Raven's shoulder, unaware that she was adding yet another burden for Raven to carry.

**…**

She sat at the head of the boardroom table, surrounded by her noble executives, Katherine, the COO, and the CFO, and the Executive Vice President, while she herself was CEO and President. It wouldn't be long before the collaborating company executives would arrive, and the meeting would begin.

She'd made her decision, and she did stand by it, but she couldn't help but feel a little doubtful over it. She was playing by pure logic and facts, not chance and hope, like her father. But chance and hope, the ability not to ponder over things and let them play out, was the foundation of the company; she couldn't let herself forget that, everything would crash and burn around her if she did. And it would be her fault, just like everything else that didn't go as planned.

"Raven," she looked up at the source of the sound that spoke her name.

A man stood in the doorway, immediately, she recalled who he was. The man now wore a full black suit with a white collared shirt and a deep blue tie, which accentuated his intense stormy eyes even more. His tan skin gleamed just as she remembered, and his spiky black hair was still distinguishing.

"Mr. Grayson?" she furrowed her eyebrows while she stood from the table and marched over to the door, "How are you?" she firmly shook his hand.

Rich ran his eyes over her; she wore a violet turtleneck sweater of cashmere, black slacks, and standard black high heels. And she was surrounded with an aura of alluring curiousness and gave his senses a great whirl.

"Better now that I know why your name sounded familiar," Rich replied, "You're Trevor's daughter; he and my father were good friends."

"And you, you're the CEO of Wayne Enterprises," Raven admitted, "Small world. I suppose we didn't fully meet each other after all. I'm Raven Roth, CEO, Roth Inc.."

"Richard Grayson, CEO, Wayne Enterprises," Rich shook her hand again.

"Very nice to formally meet your acquaintance, Richard," she gestured to the empty chair opposite of the end to where she'd previously been seated, "Please, take a seat, I just need a word with the COO; Katherine."

Her eyebrows furrowed and a questioning look upon her face, Katherine silently rose from the table and followed Raven outside the boardroom.

"What the hell, Raven? You know him?" Katherine uttered as they walked up the carpeted hallway, away from the door.

"I didn't _know_ I knew him," Raven stressed, allowing her head to hang backwards as she massaged her aching temples.

"What? Is he a passed boyfriend or something?" Katherine question.

"No," Raven groaned as she swung her head back upright and shifted her weight over, "He's, Chase's dad."

Katherine furrowed her eyebrows, "Who's Chase?"

"The kid Bryce fought with," Raven replied.

"So what, the kid's dad gets his deal shut off; no harm, no foul," Katherine shrugged, not seeing what Raven was.

"Except Dad gets pissed and forbids his son from associating with the son of the witch who denied one of his big-named fundraisers, and flushed his reputation down the toilet," Raven explained.

"What makes you so sure he'd sink to that level?" Katherine questioned.

"He's an executive, we _all_ play hardball," Raven replied logically, "And I know I had already decided to end this, but now it's personal, and my kids come first."

Katherine sighed and closed her blue eyes, "Alright, I understand."

**…**

The fresh sting of the outside Autumn air struck Raven as she left through the front doors of her building and stepped out onto the moist parking lot blacktop. She walked a short distance across the lot to her designated parking spot where her black Mercedes Benz was parked. But the space next to it, that usually remained vacant, was now the home of a flashy red Camaro.

"Let me guess," a voice gained her attention, and she turned to see Rich as he came up beside her, "That nice black Mercedes belongs to you."

"And this conspicuous but tasteful Camaro is yours," Raven assumed.

"Well, my kids insisted that I keep up with the latest trends and, well, I can't say no," Rich replied.

A realization flashed over Raven's face, and she massaged her temples as he briskly walked to her car, "Kids. It completely slipped my mind. I have to go pick up my daughter and I'm really late."

"Try tremendously late," Rich corrected, checking his wristwatch, "School let out some time ago."

"No, she's not at school," Raven clarified, opening her car door, "When the boys have a basketball game or practice, I'm supposed to go get her from..from uh, therapy."

"Therapy?" Rich quirked his eyebrow, "If you don't mind my asking, how old is she?"

Raven sighed, "Long story short, she's not the ordinary ten year old."

"Hey, who am I to judge?" Rich held his hands up, "But, yeah, you should really go get your daughter—um"

"Violet," Raven finished, and gave him a small smile, "It was nice seeing you again, Rich."

"You too, Raven, have a good day," Rich smiled back at her and shoved his hands into his pockets as she drove off, "Very nice, indeed," he added.

* * *

><p>Leather soles prodded against hard pine wood floors as the five men strolled through the hall. Silk ties contrasted suede suits and merged with white-collar and supreme personalities. Professionalism was the overall atmospheric mood surrounding the speculated matter in question.<p>

A hefty hand was placed upon his shoulder, he looked up to see who it belonged to and met the dark face of his right-hand man, Victor Stone. This bulky man called Vic towered above him about three inches, just as he always had. His brawny shoulders were square and he came off very intimidating, which was good, considering his occupation, a lawyer. But in actuality, it was hard to believe, but Rich had known him since kindergarten and knew for himself that Vic was a big softy. In the courtroom, there was a completely different man then there is in the outside world.

Since Vic was handed his diploma the day he graduated law school, he has been Rich's lawyer, the way it should be. Who was going to look after and take care of Rich better than his own best friend. Vic had been saving Rich's ass since high school, and nothing has changed, he still does. The only difference is that now he's paid to do it.

And to Rich's left, stood a miniature man with bleach blonde hair and bright blue eyes who's head barely reached Rich's shoulder. This man was a bloodsucking scoundrel that didn't give a damn about what anyone thought about him, which made him the perfect man for the job as Rich's publicist. Sid Case was an authentic southern man with a strong, distinctive accent. He gave his job a hundred and ten percent, bulldozing anyone who got in his way. Not many were fond of him, but Rich kept him around.

"As long as you cooperate, there will not be a problem, Mr. Grayson."

Rich glanced to his right and met the shinning, dark blue eyes of Wally West, better known as Detective West. He was smiling brightly and had a hand running through his unnaturally dark brown hair as he stuck the other out for Rich to shake. He gleamed with authority without the slightest bit of effort. He came off as a leader, and did his job with empowering and mighty tendencies that gave him mostly "rough around the edges" type of qualities. (**3**)

Next to Wally stood his partner in solving crime, Roy Harpor, with his hand out for Rich to take. Detective Harpor had a more stern expression upon his face, and his bright blue eyes had a natural soft look to them. He tried to come across as just as potent and independent as Wally, so that he would be seen as his equal, but he just didn't have the same raw domination character as Wally. He mostly had the appearance of a surfer boy, due to his messy, tousled dirty blond hair. (**4**) "Thanks for your time."

A smile slowly crept its way upon Rich's face at the formality of the man's tone, "After about ten years I was under the impression that we were on a first name basis, Wally. You too, Roy. What's up with you guys?"

"We're working," Roy replied, "And our Cap. is keeping a close eye on us because, apparently, _one of us _has a tendency to be very "insensitive", "violent" and has a "forceful" way of dealing with things."

It was obvious that Roy was referring to his partner, and after they all enjoyed their laugh, Rich suggested, "Do you think your Captain would mind if you came inside and said hello to the twins?"

"Sure," Wally replied, with enthusiasm, and Roy shrugged. Rich gestured to his right and pushed open two large double doors to reveal a rather large and palatial indoor gymnasium. Horsing around in a very playful manner with a basketball on the hard wood floor were Chase and his sister, Peyton Elizabeth.

"Peyt, Chase," Rich called them, "Look who's here to see you."

With the turn of her head, Peyton Elizabeth's flowing thick black ponytail whipped around and landed as a cascade over her shoulder, and she unbent her knees and stood straight up. Her eyes landed upon Detectives West and Harpor, her father, Vic, and Sid. The moment's loss of her concentration allowed Chase the chance to steal the basketball from her grasp, and he bounced it as he ran over to his father and company, and Peyton Elizabeth trailed behind.

"Sup Roy, Wally, Vic" Chase greeted them with their signature handshake, "Sid," he said to Sid, standoffish, receiving a annoyed look as a greeting from the southern man.

"Dad, Detectives, Mr. Stone, Mr. Case," Peyton Elizabeth acknowledged everyone formally and with a friendly smile, contrary to her brother.

"Peyton Elizabeth, I see you're still bringing home the wins with volleyball; front page Gotham City Times," Wally complimented with a wink of the eye.

"Well, you know.." she smiled and stayed humble.

"What about you Chase, and basketball?" Roy asked.

"Uh," Chase hesitated. Revealing to his father's high society friends that he had been kicked off the team was the last thing he would ever want to do. So he acted on his feet and changed the course of the conversation, "My game is just fine, but I think you left yours back in the 80s."

"Oh ho ho, sounds to me like someone wants to get their butt kicked in one-on-one," Roy hinted.

Chase sighed, "Come on, Roy, get real. Peyt could take you with one leg and half a brain."

"Two-on-two anyone?" Roy suggested, "So I can teach Mr. Chase here how we do it old school."

"Dad, you should join us," Peyton Elizabeth offered.

"Whoa whoa whoa, Rich," Sid spoke up, "An injury is the last thing you need right now with this big collaboration coming up. It'd be in your best interest to sit this childish little game out."

Rich pondered over the situation for a moment, "Yeah kids, I think Sid is right. I'd better sit this one out."

"But Dad-" Peyton Elizabeth interjected but was silenced when she opened her mouth.

"Now I know you like to be the little miniature Hitler at all times, Ms. Grayson," Sid intervened, "But for goodness sakes, show some respect, don't talk back to your father. Right now, you're not running anything but that mouth of yours. In fact, it'd be in your best interest to just keep that sucker shut. You're annoying little Miss Sunshine with your high society vocabulary to everyone but the man who helped bring you into this world in the first place, and now we all know that you're not, by a long shot, who you try to pass yourself off to be."

All fell silent as tension filled the air and thoughts filled their minds, everyone taking a different stance and having their own perspective. Vic, Roy, and Wally knew that if Peyton Elizabeth was their daughter, Sid would be out cold by now, but, she wasn't, and quite frankly, it was none of their business. Rich was aware that Sid was a little assertive with how he chose to handle the situation, and he was also not very fond of the tone Sid used with his daughter, but he held it in because Sid was the best publicist that money could buy, and he could easily replace Rich with one of his rivals.

Chase, on the other hand, saw how his sister's big blue eyes rimmed with tears and he didn't like it one bit. In fact, he hated it and his anger rose inside of him and he was not going to bite his tongue, "Hey, Sydney, don't talk to my sister like that you piece of trailer trash. I don't care if she slaps my dad halfway to hell and back, as long as that shriveled up excuse for a heart you have still beats, don't you ever talk to her like that again. Got it?"

Peyton Elizabeth sighed, "Chase, just stop."

"Don't let that bulldog mouth of yours overload your puppy dog ass, son," Sid stated with a smirk.

Chase was about to react but Peyton Elizabeth put her hand up, and he got her message, "Well," she sighed, and stared at the floor, concealing her now disheartened bright blue eyes, "It's been nice, but I have homework and such so..." she trailed off as she turned toward the door, "I'll get to it," she muttered before disappearing altogether from the gym.

"Don't let that door hitcha in the ass on your way out," Sid smirked again.

Chase watched his sister leave and turned and looked at Sid in disgust, "You're sick. Do everyone a favor and drop dead." And with that, Chase looked over at his father and shook his head, disappointed, before running from the gym after his sister.

Rich's eyes fell to the floor; he was disappointed in himself. He was a coward, a backboneless prick. He stood there and let a man, who's paycheck he signs, openly insult his little girl without a word.

He stood there for a moment, and let the situation replay in his head and his anger rose as his son's did and he was not going to bite his tongue again. "Sid, the next time you speak to my daughter—my children, the way you just did, I will personally make sure that the next job you have is bagging up dog shit in the park. And the name "Sid Case", will be an obscene term for "lowlife bastard whom fails at life". And don't tempt me, because you know I play hardball. Got it?" he stated in all seriousness.

**...**

Peyton Elizabeth was running at a full sprint to the complete opposite end of the mansion, to her bedroom. And even though she'd gotten a more than fair head start, Chase's full on sprint got him a mere distance from his sister in a short amount of time, but by then, she had finally arrived at her room. She shut the door behind her as he was coming around the corner, and when he reached her door, he placed his hand softly upon it, and heard the faint sound of the lock turn.

Chase cleared his throat, and paused before speaking in a sympathetic, gentle voice. "Peyt, please open the door," he asked, as the boy that seldom emerged from the hard, tough exterior that is the Chase everyone had come to know. But few knew the Chase that spoke in a voice with sincere tenderness, in words of empathy, when a pure heart beat in his chest. And all his negativity, and his controlling nature, transformed into thoughtfulness and genuine care.

He heard nothing.

He sighed, thick eyebrows knitted, and pressed his forehead against the cold oak wood, leaning his weight upon it with his hand. He didn't know why, but somehow, he knew that her forehead was against the door on the other side. It was like, now, he could completely feel the intense emotions radiating from her that he couldn't before. He didn't know what it was, but every time he was close to her, he could feel some sort of connection. He didn't know if everyone felt that way, or if it were some kind of strange "twin telepathy" magic.

"Peyt," he began, in a soft voice just above a whisper, "Don't listen to a word that douche said, do you hear me? You're a beautiful, wonderful person, and don't let anyone make you think otherwise. You're smart, and funny, and the nicest person I know. And you didn't deserve any of that. If could, I would have switched places with you and taken that crap from Sid, rather than having to watch you do it. You're my sister, Peyt, and I love you, and I'll do anything in the world for you, and I'll kick anybody's ass for you, but, if you tell anybody about this conversation, I will thoroughly deny it."

He paused and waited a few moments for her to respond. She said nothing, but he felt her turn her back to the door and slide down to her knees. He sighed, and pulled out his credit card from his wallet, and had half a mind to pick the lock, but then he heard her simply say, "Please, just.. leave me alone."

Chase deeply exhaled, and he knew that there was nothing he could say to reach his sister, so he obeyed. He left her to be alone.

On the other side of the door, Peyton Elizabeth could feel the absence of her brother's presence. He, and his always intense aura, were gone.

She sat there for a while, just staring straight ahead into nothingness, hearing not just Sid's words, but every wrong word ever said to her. _"Weirdo" "Know it all" "Shadow"!_ they rang venomously through her ears, along with never ending laughter, _"High Maintenance" "Giant" "Prissy" "Rich Girl" "Skinny Bitch" "Freak" "Teachers' Pet"!_

She knitted her eyebrows as the very memorable surges of pain she endured as each word was seethed at her in the past, returned with vengeance. She felt the sting of tears forming in her eyes, but she held them back. She'd always been so weak, and was fed up with herself being such a damsel in distress all the time. It was time for her to be strong and take care of herself, like her father, he was the bravest person she knew.

She slowly stood, feeling all her anger boiling and festering inside her. It flowed through her veins like poison along with a pumping rush of her adrenaline. She went over to her vanity and glared at the girl who stared back at her with big blue eyes. She was so perfect; flawless skin, flowing hair, voluptuous body. And yet, not one person would look at her and see who she truly is, only who she appeared to be. Which was exactly as Sid stated, "annoying Little Miss Sunshine".

And Peyton Elizabeth would never be seen as anything more than a shallow, high maintenance little airhead beauty queen.

Feeling her emotions flaring, she drew back her fist, and threw it as hard as she could into the mirror, causing it crack and then shatter into millions of pieces. Her knuckles were torn and pearls of blood quickly became small rivulets, and rolled off her fingers. But she didn't care and the pain was unnoticed because she was so angry, that she was numb. But hadn't an idea of why she was angry.

She looked up, the tears that were rimming her eyes finally became so heavy that they fell and cascaded down her cheeks. She saw all the things that hung on her wall, lay across the table, and taunted her everyday. Notes from her piers, _"We love you Peyt! Make us proud!"_, newspaper clippings of her _"Following Her Mogul Father's Footsteps"_ and _"Taking The World By Storm As The Only Female Grayson"_, stacks on stacks of letters from universities, and her trophy shelf, filled with awards from everything she'd ever participated in.

She gritted her teeth and began ripping all of the things off the wall, snatching her awards from the shelf and throwing them all into the trash. They meant absolutely nothing. No one cared that she could spike a volleyball, no one cared that she could ace a test, or carry a tune, or even save a few lives. They still thought the same of her, just the stuck up "Daddy's little Princess".

Peyton Elizabeth found herself stumbling back, being overwhelmed by the intense emotion and pain filling her entire body. She fell back against the wall and slid down to her knees. She buried her face in her hands, the warm crimson liquid flowing freely down her arm, and sobbed uncontrollably.

No one would ever know, or care to know, the real Peyton Elizabeth.

* * *

><p>Upon stepping through the doorway of her home, Raven was hit by the overwhelmingly intense anger, knowingly from Jason. She glanced over at the grandfather clock which rested against the wall; she was almost a half hour late. She looked down at Violet; the sweet, prodigious child had an understanding look in her big green eyes. Even though Violet never said a word, or made any notion that she was even aware of her existence, Raven knew that the little girl perceived everything around her as well as anyone else could.<p>

"Violet," Raven bent down to her height, "I want you to go on up to your room, okay? Bryce will be home soon with the dogs, and I'll be up in a minute." She waited until her strange, beautiful daughter had completely disappeared inside her room, before she conjured up enough courage and strength to get her legs to take her to her bedroom, where she knew Jason would be waiting for her.

She disappeared into the hallway behind the stairs, and at her door, Jason was casually leaning against the doorframe. He looked up, his eyes slowly trailing over her before settling at her crystal amethyst orbs. He could see the immobilizing fear hidden in her eyes, but she managed a fake smile through it, "How was your day, Honey?" she greeted him in an almost programmatic, forced way.

He sighed, and Raven saw a flash of crazed malevolence pass over his clouded green eyes before he simple stated "You're late," in his body numbing, cold voice.

"I'm sorry, Jason," Raven apologized, knowing it would be of no use, "The meeting lasted a little longer than I expected and—"

Jason held up his hand, signaling for her stop with her lies, "Who is he?" he inquired knowingly, his want for her to do something unforgivable, so he could have a reason, was slowly pulling him into madness, and he was halfway there.

"Jason, there isn't another man. I love you, so much," she said truthfully, "Don't you love me enough to trust me?"

Jason paused, thinking. She was right, he did love her, more than anything, that's why he had to protect her from the world. She belonged to him, and he had to keep her safe and disciplined like he would a beloved pet. "Why would you leave me here to worry about you?"

Raven slowly, but confidently approached him, a soft look in her eyes as she caressed his cheek, "I'm sorry. I feel terrible. I won't leave you again, I promise." She leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, paused, waiting for a reaction from him, but when she received nothing, she started to move in towards his lips. Just as she was nearly there, she felt her hand which had rested upon his face, being constricted and crushed by a rough hand.

Raven pulled back, cringing, feeling her already brittle bones on the brink of breaking. But as soon as Jason freed her hand of his, he delivered a vehement slap to her face that forced her to the floor on impact. Raven panted heavily as she bled profusely from her nose and mouth, trying to get back onto her feet. But Jason grabbed her by the neck, lifted her completely off her feet, at least a foot from the floor, and slammed her into the wall.

He used his free hand to grasp her chin and force her to look at him, "Don't be late," he growled, before releasing her all together, and she fell to the floor at his feet, gasping for air.

He waited for her to catch her breath, before gently trying to stand her up. He snaked his arms around her waist and allowed her weak body to rest against his. Raven wrapped her arms around him, to support herself.

He strangely just held her in his arms, almost as if he really cared. He leaned down and placed tender kisses on her neck and cheek as he whispered, "I love you, Rachael, more than words can say. You're mine, love. Till death do us part," he squeezed her fragile, petite body tighter in his embrace, "I promise."

Silent tears rolled down Raven's face, and her blood transferred to Jason's shirt, "Clean yourself up, Rachael, put the kid to bed. Don't keep me waiting," he pulled back and let Raven stand on her own, but realized that her lip would definitely swell, "You're staying home tomorrow," he told her, and she nodded.

**…**

Raven awoke in the dark silence of her bedroom, and sat up in her bed. She pulled up the sheet up and pressed it against her bare, nude chest. She looked over at the sleeping figure of her husband and decided against taking a shower, and ridding her body of his essence, afraid she might wake him. But she tacitly got up and threw on a slip over her naked body, and silently strode into the main room. She reached behind her family portrait and obtained her small leather diary.

She carefully laid her aching body down on the couch, cast the lamp's luminous shadow across the room, and opened her diary to the next clean page.

_Dear Diary,_ she wrote

_How do two people, who once fit perfectly as one, become a separate piece with jagged edges that just, don't correspond? Instead, they pierce and stab as they constantly grind together, assaying to fit, but it just doesn't work._

_As I sit here in the broken pieces of what used to be my marriage, my life, I realize that the steel walls I see surrounding my kids and myself are just inside my head. My yearning for my old life has become so unsustainable, that its created these unbreakable bonds, chains, to what used to be. And instead of pulling my family back to that nonexistent fantasy world, it's caging us inside this torturous hell; of which we now call life._

_It seems like every time I say Jason's name, or see him, or touch him.. I get this rush of emotions. The greatest, want. Want for him to be the man that I married again. Love. It seems like no matter how hard he can hit me, I can't stop loving the idea of Jason. But at the same time, hate. This monster that stalks around and paves the road to hell for me, is what Jason became; and no words are powerful enough to describe the hate. And lastly, angst. A really deep, gut-wrenching feeling that sends chills down my spine that one day, Jason is going to destroy my entire world, mercilessly._

_But the most solid, powerful feeling that I am never without, that haunts my every waking moment, has nothing to do with Jason. It's fear. A paralyzing, breathtaking fear. The fear that one day, my children will grow to resent me for all the pain I've caused them since the day Jason's anger drove him to raise his fist. I fear that Bryce and Violet will forget about me, want nothing more to do with their mother, because she stole their childhood, and made them see the cruel side of the world, much before they were ready._

_As their mother, I'm supposed hold them when they cry, protect them from any harm, and be the one person who makes them feel safe; I'm supposed to be their solace. But my son has a choice to either to fend for me or watch me die, and my daughter won't even call me Mom._

_I failed them. _

_One day, I hope they'll find the strength in their hearts to forgive me, but I know that I will never forgive myself. I can walk out of this hellhole and take them with me; never look back. But I choose to stay. Why?_

_Raven Roth_

Raven closed the book, and gently laid her worried head down, and helplessly cried herself to sleep.

* * *

><p>End chapter<p>

(**1**) Katherine: Kitten  
>(<strong>2<strong>) Toni Monetti: Argent  
>(<strong>3<strong>) Wally West: Kid Flash  
>(<strong>4<strong>) Roy Harpor: Speedy

Okay, there you go! I'm so excited that I finally got my muse back, and I really do hope that you enjoy this. And I'm definitely getting somewhere with Challenge Day and Jump City High, so expect an update, later than sooner, it takes time people. But anyway, **THANK YOU SO MUCH** for reading this, I really do appreciate it a lot, and please please **review** and tell me exactly what you think. And I promise in the next chapter, something will actually happen.

**Just curious:** Who's your favorite character so far? Least favorite?

Till then,

_-GothicPrincess _


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